


Hannibal's Hands

by chox55



Category: The Eric Andre Show
Genre: Body Horror, Comedians, Comedy, Gen, NYC, RPF, adult swim, bizarre, comedy central
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 14:40:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4439675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chox55/pseuds/chox55
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Comedian Hannibal Buress has a frustrating conversation with Eric Andre, then discovers something disturbing about himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hannibal's Hands

Hannibal Buress sat down on a metal bench in Washington Square Park, thankful to have found a quiet, empty spot on a sunny Saturday afternoon. It had been a year since he had moved to LA from Brooklyn, but still found comfort in the simple joy of finding a sliver of semi-privacy in hectic New York City. Not that LA wasn’t any calmer, it was just … different. 

He had barely caught his breath — walking instead of driving was something he did not miss — when his cell phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen: “Eric Andre”. They had just started filming season 4 of The Eric Andre Show, and Hannibal was supposed to meet Eric later to go over some recent edits. He loved Eric like a brother, but like many comedians, he was sometimes hard to work with.

“What’s up?” 

“Hey man, we have to re-shoot some of the Bird Up scenes and I need you to pick up my green suit from the seamstress before you come over. Also, you want Thai or Chinese?”

“Chinese. No wait, Thai.” Hannibal wasn’t even hungry, he had just cleaned out a nearby Halal cart but knew never to turn down free food. “What seamstress?” Adult Swim might have dedicated fans, but the network was on a tight budget and shows were often responsible for providing their own props and costumes. If something needed mending, a PA usually did it.

“The girl from last night. The one we did karaoke with.”

Hannibal rested his forehead in his left hand and sighed. “Man, we didn’t go to no karaoke, you took Molly and ran down St. Marks in your green screen suit screaming about how there’s no ethical consumption under late capitalism to a bunch of NYU girls. You’re lucky I recorded it on my phone and passed it off to Mike as a skit for the show. We might have to blur out the girls, though. They didn’t sign waivers. Man, I’m too old for this shit. You’re too old for this shit.”

The line went silent.

“Hello? Eric, you there?”

“Sorry man I fell asleep. Late night. What did you say? I gotta go I think the Chinese is here.”

Hannibal stared at a squirrel trying to chew through a used condom. “Forget it, I’ll get your suit and be there in about an hour.” He hung up without saying goodbye.

On paper, Hannibal’s career was taking off. Broad City was getting great reviews, The Eric Andre Show was still going strong and his own show was about to air on Comedy Central. He knew he was lucky and should be grateful, but something didn’t seem quite right.

He looked down at his hands. Was he dreaming? His fingers has turned into chicken strips, much to the delight of the nearby squirrel who was trying to take a bite out of his right pinky. They were covered in buffalo sauce, and Hannibal soon found himself hungry again.

“Why does this always happen to me?” Hannibal whispered to no one.


End file.
